


Waterfalls

by DevilishKurumi



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: F/M, Post-Game(s), Rare Characters, Rare Pairing, an adele song waiting to happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:23:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows he shouldn't, but he will anyway.  Because you can't stop on a waterfall once you're caught in the current.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waterfalls

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be asleep an hour ago, but instead have this.

            She sits up in the cot, sheet pooling around her waist and leaving her torso bare to the clammy cool of the Treno night, lights up a rolled galenas joint and says, “That was something else.”  The sharp, slender curve of her back is inviting, but he refrains from sliding an arm around her.  He doesn’t know if it’s because he doesn’t deserve to be close to her, or if it’s simply because he’s too exhausted.

            She shifts and her hip bumps his arm.

            “You’re something else,” she adds, a piteous compliment to ease the blow of what he’s done.  He makes a noise of embarrassment, throws his arm over his eyes, and thinks about the journey back to Alexandria; with the gargant, it’ll take barely any time at all.  But he has to leave now, if he wants to get back before first light.

            “You’re leading yourself on,” she says.

            He doesn’t reply.  She falls silent, holding the joint out to him.  Her long hair cascades over her shoulder and he thinks about the way waterfalls mist when they hit the river below.  A booming, constant roar, never ceasing.  Unable to be stopped, just like this.

            “She’ll be missing you, you know.  If you don’t leave soon.”

            He takes the joint, drags on it, then hands it back and sits up, throwing his feet over the edge of the cot and looking for his breeches.  “Of course,” he finally says.  “If she notices.”

            “You should really just say something to her.”

            He can’t imagine telling her a thing.  Especially not about this.  He doesn’t want to risk being executed in front of the royal guards.

            She pats him on the shoulder, broad handed and heavy, an unstoppable waterfall.  He stands and finds his clothing piece by piece.  She stubs her smoke out on the bed frame and drops it onto the bedside table.

            “I’m leaving,” she says, suddenly, and he looks to her as he picks up his shirt.  “Red and I are hitting up the Outer Continent.  Rumor has it, there’s treasure to be had out there.  And bounties, of course.  There are always bounties.”

            “I wish you a safe journey, in that case.”  He sits down to put on his boots.

            She’s quiet for a few minutes, then she says, “I probably won’t be back for a while.  But – if you, you know.  Get that itch...”

            “Are you asking me not to cheat on you?”  He barks out a soft, unhappy laugh.  “I doubt I will find anyone worth doing such a thing with.”

            “Actually,” she says, then falls silent again.  He stands and pulls on his shirt.  “I was going to say.  You could always come looking for me.”

            He turns to look at her again, waterfall hair and ash-covered fingers and dark, dark eyes, and he thinks, _I would like that very much_.  And he also thinks, _I would like to come with you_.  But he knows that’s the stress talking ( _and the fear, and the night terrors that have forced him into his own room back at the castle_ ) and so he says nothing of the sort.  He just nods his head once and moves to the door.

            “See you around, sir knight,” she drawls, and he can hear her striking a match behind him.  He can hear her inhale again, and he can still smell her on his skin.  She lingers on him for hours; something Beatrix can never seem to do.

            “Maybe,” Steiner replies, and then he’s out the door and in the dark, misty streets.  And still he can feel Lani’s fingers on his skin.

            Maybe he will be in need of a leave of absence, in a few days time.

            That should be just long enough to give her a head start.


End file.
